Joining of Hearts: Semblance of Minds
by InsaneMagician
Summary: Hannah's past finally caught up to her and there's only someone whom she can go to at this point; the Alliance is too infiltrated to help and her parents are of no use. But the one who had once saved her, trained her into the soldier she has become, is the only one she trusts. Much like their first meeting, it's sudden and surprising, but there's a key difference: their feelings...
1. Prologue: ReUnion

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Mass Effects. There are no facts but speculations, such as trade, or inquiries of the personal sort; those are done by yours truly.

MI's Note: This story has been gathering digital dust, and I needed to get some gaming back into me. A gamer needs to play a game, no matter how boring, just to be kept alive. But there are times in which the need for something challenging surfaces, and my ME copy was gathering as much dust as this story. So the mood struck me to work on it even if it was for a little while, just to polish and polish; as I said, it has been with me for more than two years. And yes, this is how it begins, even though there's a pre-quel, this one was written first. To this pairing! May it inspire others.

Please, enjoy.

**Joining of Hearts  
**_**Semblance of Minds**_

_Even different realities have a point of harmony.  
__Reaching such point isn't hard, it's keeping it despite odds that is._

Prologue: ReUnion

Samara wasn't prepared for what was about to happen. For that matter, neither was her surprise. She remembered a child, barely sixteen, fighting for ideals not even her own, and overcoming the odds, a girl just turning to a woman, and growing quickly into one. During the time they got to know each other, Samara taught the human youngling about combat, more than what she already knew, about weapons, about the asari. The girl was adamant on keeping her name to herself, so despite her own code, she knew privacy was something the child required to trust her, especially after the obvious anti-alien attitude. The trust was hard earned, but it was, and Samara was glad to find someone capable to go at her speed as she chased her elusive catch. Her patience was rewarded with friendship, and a name. Hannah Shepard.

That was the woman, now-woman, who was standing at her door. Unlike their first meeting, it was a dry day, and the human was dried as well, looking almost turian. Once their eyes met, electric blue on soft blue did the corporal fall. Samara was, of course, ready to catch the almost-dead human; she smelled of recently decayed photosynthetic life, and the asari held the frail creature close. Despite time and space, origin and beliefs, they were close. At first, it was more like a mother kind of relation, afterwards . . . Samara had no idea about afterwards; it was too intangible, elusive even, and at some level, completely foreign. She took in the almost brown look of the hair, and the pale and leathery quality of her recent companion's skin and felt her heart being chipped. Never had she felt a need to protect someone, not even when the girl had been just a girl, with the innocence of her own ignorance leading her astray. Not even when there was an even more tangible threat then, in the past . . . .

It was right then that she knew — Samara _knew_ with every fiber of her being that _that_ threat posed an even more dangerous position in the present. She knew that they were behind her friend's recent state. The girl's illicit activities had come back to hunt the woman, the soldier, for her own standing. The justicar knew in that instant that she couldn't turn her back and leave the woman to her fate, just as she hadn't been able to leave the girl to her troubles. Her prey would have to wait, at least until her recent (and ever) stray could find her way back. It turned out that the delay had more effect than the asari could predict, and that her choice was to be the source of the discrepancy, not that either would ever call it that.


	2. 1: Opening of Heart - and Mind

Opening of Heart . . . and Mind

"I had not expected to see you again," Samara commented lightly, but her eyes spoke more than her words, or voice, "I trust your recovery is going well."

"Better than last time," Shepard agreed, working hard to keep from stuffing her face and trying to eat properly, "I swear, your food is even better, you should try eating it."

The warrior smiled softly to herself, and began eating her food, again. With the alien eating moderately and at her side, the spacer was able to restrain herself, and their meal was done in a peaceful silence which they took joy in sharing. After they finished, they left their containers on the washing machine, and went to sit down and talk. Yet, once they sat down besides each other, their silence remained, permeating the air, making it hum with peace. Hannah wasn't in her best condition yet, so the low and arid breeze cooled her to sleep. Her head was slumped against the firm and unyielding blue shoulder, but the justicar did not mind. She even relished from the contact, smiling softly, and then, in an act so unlike herself, she gave into the mood, and fell asleep herself, her own head on top of the still recovering human's.

* * *

"I must admit, I did not fancy myself waking like this," Samara shakes her head softly against the words being whispered, "but, I must confess, I like it . . ."

The human snuggled against her, and she just cuddled the creature in a protective embrace. It was such an automatic reaction, that Samara didn't catch it until she heard the sigh coming from the snuggling creature. It was then the warrior's struggling choice to figure out her own reaction, mostly due to sleep, but once she caught on to it, she sat up, still holding the human close. So startled was the woman, that she didn't fall asleep as her sigh had suggested.

"Hannah, you differ greatly from anyone I've ever met . . . ." The words were laced with care, and utter astonishment, but whatever else was to follow, was never uttered.

"Hey, Samara," a warm and kind hand was placed on the blue cheek with tender care, and looking into those soft blue eyes, the alien realized something, both painful and calming; there were feelings behind the look, but the owner had yet to figure them, "thank you for allowing me to stay here, for protecting and helping me."

The words pained her in ways she didn't understand. To hide this fact, she lay back down and brought the human with her. The movement and exchange were enough to exhaust the woman, who now resembled the child she had found so long ago, that sleep came easy. For the human at least, but not for Samara. She didn't know if the human's heart was true, for the now-girl might just see her as a protective figure, a rescuer, and not as she was. It was a painful realization.

* * *

"So, will you tell me what ails you?" The question was soft, and discreet, letting Hannah know that her pillow and mattress noticed her wake. The only thing the human did was sigh in pleasure from the contact; the asari was rubbing her lower back. "Should I stop?"

The question had its desired result; the child was wide awake. Still, she didn't open up, which troubled the justicar, so, instead of stopping, the rubbing was now done with one finger in a slightly smaller circle, with a higher amount of pressure being applied. Samara had no idea on how to comfort her friend. From said friend's reaction though, she could tell she wasn't doing the right kind of comforting. The human's small body hair stood on end, she became paralyzed for just a few brief seconds, and she hid her face on the crevice between neck and shoulder, a favorite spot. No sound was uttered, but due to the closeness of their bodies, the vibration the blue seductress felt was enough to know the dangers behind such actions, and she reprimanded herself.

But the soldier didn't seem to notice anything or rather, was eager to distract them from each other, but the alien couldn't be sure of the reasons. It could be that the feeling was enough to push her to tell, it could be that she felt a need to confide after a personal instant. Whatever the reason, Samara was ready to face it, as she faced the fragile creature, looking deep into the soft blue eyes, a hand against the now soft and golden hair, but what threatened to overpower her was the feeling that those lovely pale pink lips were right over her own soft violet ones. But there was pain evident in those eyes, and she had to fight hard against her own will of taking the pain away. The girl opened her mouth to speak, and after she finished speaking, she began crying, and the only thing her companion did, _could_ do, was hold her tight. It was as if the world had gone mute in that brief instance, as did her voice. Too bad Samara knew how to read lips . . . .

"But . . . how . . ?" She had gotten her voice back, but not her words.

"They found me," the girl-turned-woman began, crying, "I have no idea how they found out, how they learned . . . ."

"I taught you to hide it," the alien replied softly, and a sob escaped her friend, "because you do not hold the power to make use of them."

"And still they learned," her voice was about to break and she was a step away from hysterics, "they took me as a test subject, they —"

"Abused from a position of power," Samara spoke fiercely, the justicar in her arriving to envelope the woman in her arms in a protective embrace, "you've been through enough, you're —"

They looked into each other's eyes, and the human couldn't help herself, she sniffled pathetically, and the warrior's face softened. Hannah frowned lightly at the action, and then, in an impulsive action, she kissed the seductress who held her. The brief instant in which their lips join, Samara forgot everything and held the woman closer, tighter, and once granted access to the mouth, the only thing to bring her back was the moan she elicited from the vulnerable corporal. That brought the blue humanoid back and she forced herself to move the human away from her.

"No, Hannah, this cannot be," the woman swallowed, but didn't look away, "you should know that your feelings aren't real."

"Wait . . . ." Clearly, the creature expected something else; such was the shock that she became paralyzed just as Samara moved slowly and with deep regret away from the spot they had shared. "What?"

"Hannah, do you not realize the truth of your feelings?" It took the refugee a minute to realize the face her companion had was one of worry, tender worry. "I am but the hero of your distress; I'm the savior of your nightmares. Justicars will often be compared to the knights of your medieval times; a justicar found your world long ago and instilled these principles to help your kin on such dark times — but I cannot use your feelings as they are."

"Ah, so you believe my feelings are born from the fact that you _save me_?" The human was offended, as expected, but what wasn't, was the pain and betrayal. "I didn't come to you to rescue me from my own past, Samara, I came here instead of going to my parents because I missed you, not just the fact that you made me feel safe, I just missed _you_ . . . .

"Missed the silence we could share, missed the way you taught me to be stronger, how you always found a way to push me further, how you're warm and kind, and overall, caring." She shook her head briefly, tears threatening to fall, looking famished, but more than that, looking confident. The realization startled the warrior. "I missed the simple gestures, the connection I felt when you touched me even if it was just to explain something about a weapon, and I thought myself, those feelings would vanish once I left . . . ."

_When did I start knowing her so well?_ Samara wondered, looking tenderly at the creature across the room from her, _when did she channel her confidence towards this?_

"They didn't . . ." Samara finally spoke as she began crossing the distance, her first steps timed to the shake of head that confirmed her statement.

"It was more than just the fact that you were the first person who saw me for who I was, not the family I belonged to," her own mother had taken her father's name, which was the reason why she had taken on her mother's maiden name as her own. "I missed you, and even if my relation with my parents is better, there is still a bitterness which we cannot overcome. I didn't seek their help because they wouldn't understand, I didn't seek yours because you would, I did so because I knew your support was what I needed, your touch was what I longed."

"I understand," Samara did, she honestly did, and her hug showed it, "I am sorry for doubting your feelings."

"Don't be," the surprised human replied, surprising her companion, "it's the way you must be . . . ."

They held each other in tender arms, and it was then that the alien realized an astounding truth. Blue hand on caramel cheek, they stared into each other's eyes, eyes so similar in color, even if not in tone, eyes that they knew so well, that they stood there, struck. Samara never knew she could feel like that for another creature.

"I believe I can find more than happiness now," she whispered softly, holding the cheek gently, "with you . . . ."

"So, we can be together," the hope in the soldier's voice left the child she had been in shame, "even if it's for a while?"

"Shouldn't you report to your captain?" The older creature countered in a caring tone, a teasing smile on her lips.

"I already did," Hannah confessed, her eyes going towards the floor in shame, "right as I was free from my captors, I contacted my captain. His orders were to get away from there, to safety and to recover."

Samara tilted the chin up, forcing their eyes to meet, and the human seemed eager to voice something, but she wasn't about to allow her. So, instead, she used the open mouth from which words would hurriedly escape and forced the woman to moan. She even felt the eyelids fluttering; this made her grin despite the kiss.


	3. 2: Melding of Souls

Melding of Souls

"Even if you know the basic movements and possess the skills, your biotic power isn't strong enough," Samara chided the woman under her training, frowning lightly, "why do you still wish to learn, even if you cannot acquire it?"

Humans were puzzling creatures, she concluded, irrational despite their sound logic. For her part, Hannah snarled in frustration; maybe the asari would never understand. Why did she keep on trying, when the results would always remain the same? The only way to enhance the ability was through boosters connected at the nerves, but the humans had yet to develop such technology. Why would they? There weren't any biotics in their race — they didn't _know_ about biotics.

"Hannah . . . ." The name and word implied more than a call of attention; it also expected an answer to the unasked but well known question. Why was she doing all of that?

"I managed to throw one of my captives off me," she finally conceded, "I was bound, but my body's muscles contracted and convulsed of their own accord just as my nerves were fried raw."

"From what I taught you, you deduced that, somehow, you used dark matter and threw the man away," and there was the logic behind the irrationality, "the likelihood of you somehow managing to reproduce the same conditions is quite unlikely."

"I know!" Exasperation; even after having lived with the human longer than with any other creature since she entered the order, Samara was still amused by the display of lack of self-control. "I need more than the recipe; I need the kitchen in the same state, the same ingredients, the same tools . . . ."

"Recipe for fried nerves," the asari tut-ted, an action she only did when in the present company, "I must admit, I do not fancy the dish."

Hannah laughed hearty, clearly the wanted result from her companion. The warrior approached the tired creature, already pushing herself to the limits since she began speaking. A little more than a day had gone by since her sudden appearance, and even though the justicar still searched for her stray daughter, her romantic pursuit was pursuing her, so she never did stop the search, just while she helped her friend recover.

"We have yet to discuss the matter off —" She was cut off, unable to finish by the wounded look in her friend's eyes and the raised caramel hand.

"No, not yet," she replied, looking off into the distance, and then closing her eyes in pain, "I'm not ready to face that yet . . . ."

"Very well," the asari replied softly and mutely, she then sighed, "I still must tell you, if I am forced to kill you . . ." she licked her now-dried lips, and swallowed, "I will."

"Good," the reply was surprising, "that was one of the reasons I decided to come. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I came to such decision, and I would rather die by your hands. I know, it's selfish, I'm sorry . . . ."

"Extremely selfish." As long as Hannah still lived by the code, even if it wasn't through obligation, Samara would stand by her. "Don't make me kill you . . . ."

The plea was earnest; she had no idea she was capable of such thing. She was now standing beside the young woman, arms wide open, face expressing worry and concern.

"I won't . . . ." The reply was equally earnest.

Hannah stopped her movements, and with a sigh, stepped into the comforting zone amid the cobalt limbs. By then, the recovering female was struggling to keep her eyes open. Samara took notice of this, and held the petite figure closer. With a soft and caring voice, she hushed the creature who began cuddling into her, taking her back inside for some rest.

* * *

"Samara?" The asari was meditating, taking her time to sort her emotions, thoughts, and body. "Samara?"

The voice had become urgent, and the warrior left her place without another thought. She found the source of distress, and the young human sighed in relief. The simple touch was enough to reassure the troubled woman; she ended more exhausted than when she first fell asleep. It might not do their recently growing relation any good, but still Samara took her path. She would sleep besides the soldier, and she would care for Hannah. She didn't expect to fall asleep besides the young woman, but that was what happened. It was the best sleep they both had had in a long time.

* * *

"Have you told your captain about your current . . . situation?" It was a delicate question, not the kind she expected her companion to take well. Her expectations were met.

"This isn't what I expected for pillow talk," the woman muttered in a low breath, then sighed, and shook her head, "no, I haven't told him about it, and no, I don't know what to do about it . . . ."

"I suspect the truth would be a good start." It was simple reasoning that led her to such deduction. "After all, it happened during your . . . what was that word again . . . _abduction_." Kidnap was the actual truth, but far from the right word.

Her companion sighed. "I know; it's best if he learns about it but . . . I just don't know what to do . . . ."

"Maybe I could . . . ." The solution was obvious, even logical, but what it required was vastly dependent on a number of factors. Samara shouldn't have even begun, but she was going to finish the sentence, at least for the corporal's peace of mind. "I told you about the asari, even the melding process . . . ."

The clues were enough, as they ought to be; had her companion not caught on, the disappointment would have left a bitter taste.

"I'm not sure I have what is needed to pull that off," at least she was open to the idea, "and I would need someone to map . . . ."

. . . a fact that had completely escaped the justicar. As things were now, she knew she wasn't allowed a family, and the one she had was what brought upon her inability for more. But then, to ask another asari for such selfish acts, even if her own reasons for offering herself as map would be just as selfish . . . . Her turmoil thoughts didn't register the other's pain until a soft hiss was issued, she then allowed her grip to loosen, and began apologizing; she wasn't given a chance.

"I'm sorry Samara," Hannah began in a low tone, which was shaken, frustrated, "I didn't mean to . . . I do not wish to implicate you, nor anyone else . . . let's forget —"

"Chose me," her own words were shocking to hear, but even more was the underlying pain and hope; the soldier took a sudden breath, unable to believe the words spoken, "I — I would do _anything_ for you . . . ."

"Anything?" The tone now was light, and the jest wasn't lost.

"Unless it goes against the code," she finished solemnly, and she could feel the smile the human sported.

"Then please, allow me to meld with you," the request was honest, almost begging, but what made Samara's entire being tremble, was the love, "allow us to —"

The plea was lost in a moan. Since Hannah was a biotic and sensible to the works of others in that area, she could grasp what the blue alien explained in both, words and actions. Hannah drank it all in, the texture of the soft, leathery scales that had thrilled her during the first touch they had shared . . . the smells, of cinnamon and apple, mixed with incense . . . the sounds she made, the ones she made her companion make with delicate, feathery touches in one spot, and then the pressure made in others . . . the sensation of the biotic power mapping her . . . the faint sensation of trying to do the same . . . it was good that the biotic ability required was low, faint but needed, during the act of melding. Hannah was drowning in sensations, but once she began to perceive the amount of memories behind a feeble wall, she broke it as her nails did with the cerulean skin beneath, and the stream of reminiscence overwhelmed her. Her nervous system was overloaded, and it was like a flare.

Samara could feel it; she felt the raw amount of what she could give, how her companion tried to take it all in. It was biting off more than what could be chewed, so she decided to provide helpful memories of her first melding, her first daughter, her second, her third, and the raw pain of finding they were Ardat-Yakshi. Suddenly, the act ended as soon as it had started. Hannah was cringing on one side of the bed, tear stricken, and Samara felt terrible. Swallowing her words and regret, she turned to leave, but a soft, fragile hand caught hers, and then the naked body of a human she had learned to care for was pressed against her. They both wanted to apologize, and they both knew the other didn't want to hear it, so they just embraced each other. The only sound heard were the minute sobs that came from the apparently broken young woman. The justicar could only hold her tighter, as if trying to keep her pieces together.

"Thank you, for sharing your pain," _I'm sorry for overreacting_. Since when did the biotics' ability extended to mind reading?

"Thank you for staying," _I'm sorry, for putting you through this_ . . . .

"I wouldn't allow you to leave, either," Hannah whispered, "I couldn't . . . ."

This time, when Samara opened her mouth to speak, she was the one to be embraced. Hannah took her into such a deep kiss, that everything was forget, if only briefly. But once she remembered, her companion moaned so deeply that she decided she didn't care.


	4. 3: Reminiscence

Reminiscence

"I don't think I managed it," it had been three days since their melding, and neither had been able to talk about it, "if anything, the nausea feels worse — bathroom break!"

Samara had learned plenty about a female human's pregnancy; not that Hannah was willing to call it that, and felt worried about moving around too often. After the first incident, they had managed to meld themselves and become one complete being so all their memories had been shared entirely. That, of course, meant that they would need time to sort through them, but the asari was confident the younger woman had managed to learn the way they reproduced; she just didn't know, like the girl, if it had been applied properly.

Gathering from the memories retrieved from the biology course, she knew that the likelihood of the child actually changing as the melding was meant to do wouldn't be useful. A week had already passed since the woman confessed her abduction and had arrived. She had probably spent a day on the last vessel leaving whatever forsaken land (read Shanxi; why humans wanted that planet was beyond her) she had been on, hijacking it completely and gaining access to the asari space. From that point forward, it wouldn't take her long to locate the justicar's likely zone, since the search was easy, if the one searching knew what to look for.

Hannah certainly did, and she didn't take care of herself through the journey, only eager to see her, Samara, again. The only thing that led the young woman to realize that she was with child were the morning sickness, headaches, bathroom trips, and overall, the way her own breasts were being over-sensitive. She didn't think anything about the weight loss, or the fact that the meals weren't appealing, even after captivity, or about her extreme tiredness. If it wasn't because of the rigorous training they went through, the alien was certain that the frail creature in her care would have broken or snapped or _both_. Not a pleasant thought, but a realistic one.

As the center of her thoughts, owner of the accounts that were shared returned to the room after releasing her body of its apparent hourly need; her body had regained some of its weight, but more so the water it needed for replenishing, her thoughts shifted to the fact that the human before her was unique to her species. She was a low-level biotic without ability or power, and yet, one whom, during her first try, performed exceptionally during her first melding attempt. The creature was a natural, which meant that, had she received the training and implants, she would have become, without exception, an incredible biotic user.

And yet the child (or perhaps the lover?) wasn't interested in any kind of "pillow talk" as she simply cuddled over. Samara couldn't help but embrace the young woman; she still felt like, as Hannah explained during one of their lengthy conversations about their age, a cradle snatcher. There simply was something about the creature next to her . . . perhaps the fact that the one seducing wasn't the asari . . . .

She began sorting through their shared memories, mostly about the captivity, and began counting. The escape and the rape happened at the same date, arriving there was another, and then added another from the regaining strength. All in all, if the melding hadn't taken place, they would be in trouble; two weeks into it, changes are plausible at a cellular and molecular level, from the forth week onward and the fetus started developing. And there were no guarantees that the melding had actually made a change, but it was enough having the human worry.

As it was, the justicar already felt troubled. The soldier hadn't gained weight, and her morning sickness was getting worse, as were the headaches and tiredness. It escalated to the point in which naps were frequent, as were the cravings, and yet the weight was never fully regained. The warrior had picked the woman from having fallen asleep reading something, and found her easier to carry daily; she would bet hourly. She was worried, but most of all, Samara dreaded the mood swings. Things were certainly getting more complicated, as they tended to become whenever a human was involved.

* * *

"Samara, do you remember the salarian?" It was hard not to, and if she didn't tread carefully, things would become far too complex to handle. "I was jealous of him."

"Is that how you came to the conclusion that —" Ah, so the human had been jealous back then . . . . Really, how long ago had those feelings been forming? Before she could even ask, the petite female asked something else.

"You never did fully explain what love was," sometimes it was hard to follow a human's logic as it was to follow a salarian's; she doubted the comment would help her out. "By the way, you never wrote back."

"I knew you were fine," soft peck, "I read more than your messages."

"Really?" Was there doubt in the voice? It was too dark to tell if the human was jesting or not. "Like what?"

Better to play it safe. "Well, I know you won every tournament you could get into; turns out you can wield quite a blade." The human chuckled, and buried her forehead on the crevice between neck and shoulder. "You owe me for the bite."

"Well, I won't pay back," the playful reply made the cerulean catch those caramel wrists in one hand. "Is this domestic abuse?"

"Don't act as if you don't like it . . . ." She felt the thrill her words sent down the blonde's spine, and she smirked as she bit into the shoulder; there was a hiss, and she chuckled. "You're at my mercy . . . ."

"You never fully realized," the other panted, making the asari's breath hitch, "I had been waiting a long time for you to see I've always been at your mercy . . ."

"It seems you will always confuse me," Samara really didn't know what to make of the human beneath her. "I just hope you never misunderstood my final words."

"So you never meant that if I had been older," there was a sly quality to the words, "we would have been together?"

"You seem believe that this is due to the fact that you're older . . ." quite an intriguing notion. "Sorry to burst your bubble. I meant that, had you truly been my kid, I would never let you go, but in a sense, you were my child, I just never truly expected for it to grow into . . . this . . . ."

"Well, I am glad it did," there it was, a sniff of indignation, but it was killed by a yawn; she chuckled. "Don't laugh, I'm serious!"

"So am I when I say," she leaned close, almost as if to give a peck, "that so do I . . ."

She sealed it with a kiss, and with a content sigh, she allowed her prey to escape. The freed arms wrapped themselves around the blue waist, the head nestling in its most comfortable spot. It was Hannah's turn to sigh; it was a happy sound. They fell asleep in comfort, or such was the idea until the human rose again. She headed straight for the bathroom. Samara sighed, this time in mild rejection. Well, rest would always come later.


	5. 4: Incongruent Symptoms

Incongruent Symptoms

"We have to leave," those were her first words; she had been frantic all morning, right after the usual sickness, "they are coming, I can hear them!"

Samara took the caramel hand in hers, forcing the erratic woman to stop. It had been going on for some time; instead of the usual headaches, the soldier became paranoid, neurotic, and, at some points, hallucinations even overcame her. The alien grew worried. Perhaps, this was an effect from the melding?

"Hush, I'm here," the corporal resembled the child she had been during their first meeting, meaning that an approach as if to a wounded animal was always the best, and this meant touch; they embraced shortly before the human began sobbing uncontrollably. "It's okay, no one can hurt us, no one . . . ."

"We have to leave Samara," the vulnerable creature repeated, this time more calmly and controlled, impressive for a woman who had been crying seconds ago; was it the mood swings? "I don't know why, but I feel a need to run, flee even . . . let's just leave here, please . . . ."

"If I didn't have my own duties, I would chase after those men," the pain was obvious in those electric blue eyes, but she only held her companion closer, "you have everything packed?"

They went over their old list, to which the human had added fundamentals for her new state. If anything, it released part of the burden the justicar feared. Hannah was still lucid enough to make conscious changes, and her logic helped ease a growing fear of lack of sanity. If an apparently sane human wasn't the most coherent, then insanity wouldn't suit the pregnancy; women definitely lost themselves (their minds, from the humans' part most likely) in such state. That was another thing; the soldier finally came to a decision and accepted the truth about the situation. They were calling it by its name, pregnancy, and she had finally contacted her captain through a secure line with the help of her omni-tool. He made sure that no one else found out, and granted her the months she needed to make sure everything went well, even allowed her to go back to earth. He would try and catch the culprits but without her there, he wouldn't be able to do much.

The only pertinent people whom she refused to call, were her parents, perhaps because they would, and this they both knew well, disown her. Maybe Hannah was even looking forward to that. The only thing that Samara had cared for, at those instances, wasn't the news to be shared by her romantic pursuit, but more that she remained coherent through the conversation with her captain. If paranoia struck then as it had struck at that precise instant, she knew there would be no chance for the Alliance to allow the corporal to remain outside its influence, and leave Hannah exposed to the criminals who had left her with child. Not that the Alliance would see it that way . . . . She shook the thoughts away as they finally left the place, just to have to return for a quick trip to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry Samara, it's just —" as always, the petite human was flustered by her inability to control her own body; it left her speechless.

Before anything else could be said, the cerulean alien took the young woman into a loving embrace, both hug and kiss. "How about leaving now?"

"Yes," the reply was breathless, and left the warrior with a smirk; sometimes, the situations were easier to control.

It was their third trip of the week, but it went with relative peace. The bathroom breaks weren't as frequent, but they did come across some bandits. This meant a problem, or such were the odds. They could feel the vulnerability of the human, so obviously Hannah was the easy target. They had no idea what hit them. Unfortunately, neither did the soldier after she did short work of the criminals. Samara had to carry her the remaining way, which wasn't far and still, there were other reasons to worry. The corporal was still losing weight.

The shuttle took them to a planet far away, where rumors of strange deaths had been spreading, and those who could recognize them as the work of an Ardat-Yakshi, and something told her she was getting closer. It was risky bringing a pregnant human along, but neither could stop Samara from her quest; Hannah knew the risks and consequences, and yet she remained at the alien's side. The justicar yielded because of multiple factors, but overriding everything, was the fact that she enjoyed spending time with the human. It was educative, if anything else. Their new place was the first place she had to force the young woman to eat.

"I don't like the smell!" It smelled as it always did.

"Yesterday, you were begging me to cook this," the pained look broke the soldier's will, and she took one bite, chewed for such a long time, that it didn't fix anything, "you need to eat, tell me if you crave something else."

The blonde grimaced; it had been a while since she had paid any attention to the physical appearance of her companion, but the usually shining mane was opaque and dimmed. It pained her even more when she saw the woman running towards the bathroom, and vacating her already empty stomach. With a sigh, she refrigerated the food, then went into the bathroom and began preparing the bathtub. The preparations were short; by the time the woman's usual sickness left, it was ready.

"It smelled of blood . . . ." The comment wasn't lost, but there was no chance to answer. "Oh hell no, you ain't cooking me alive on that thing!"

"It's just warm," Samara frowned lightly as she dipped a hand into the water, "it's not scalding."

"You kid me not," there it was, the scowl that spoke of mental instability, "I can see the bubbles!"

The seductress wasn't ready for a fight of wills; the water would cool too much. Instead, she offered to get inside with the human. Said creature was already holding tight to the frame, expecting to be forced into a cooking pot. Right then, she had a contemplative look on her face. She wasn't a terrestrial keen on physical contact, but at that moment, what gave her more peace was her touch sense, specifically when it involved the alien who was already naked and sliding into the cooking pot . . . . The decision wasn't hard at that point. Hannah whimpered as she got inside the tub.

Samara smiled softly as the young woman fell asleep against her inside the warm water. She got them both cleaned up, and dressed by the time her companion woke. By then, the petite creature was hungry, and finished the previously prepared meal, and then another dish, just to be ready for sleep. Humans were puzzling life forms, nothing else to be said. And yet, their primal instincts made them easy to . . . deal with. Manipulate would be a better word, but it wasn't one that she would be able to deal with. Samara was a practical being, if anything else, and her consciousness couldn't help but point the fact out. It was good that the creature cradled in those blue arms had other ideas. Unfortunately, it was paranoia-related.

"Hannah, be still," the soldier was, for some reason, struggling with the blankets; their heads collided, and while hers only throbbed, she knew that the wetness was from the soldier's blood.

"It's going to strangle us!" The worst part was the seriousness of the voice, as was the panic embedded in it; the human hadn't realized that she was bleeding. "We have to get out, we have to flee —!"

"Calm down," it was a soft tone, one that Samara had never believed she would ever use again, "you told me something about us being together . . . ."

"Nothing can stop us," it was as if just speaking, gave the young woman radiance; her locks acquired their golden beauty, her pasty skin returned to its vigorous soft caramel texture, "I'm sorry Samara, I don't know what's gotten into me lately —"

"I do," it was the only reasonably explanation, "you're pregnant."

"Does this happen to the asari?" It was a fair question.

"No." She was carrying, as it was becoming custom, the young woman, off to take a bath again, almost like their first meeting . . . . Trying to shake her thoughts off such topic, she expertly prepared the bath.

"Then how can it be the pregnancy? Female humans only get morning sickness —" The blessed silence came once she dipped the human into the tub, and the blonde could only whimper, then beg for her not to leave her cooking, just for the child to be quiet with the sting of the antiseptic from the medi-gel.

"Mood swings, headaches, heartburn, constant bathroom breaks, weight gain or loss, exhaustion," it was a memorized list, and she decided to carry on from the last, meaningful thing her mate had spoken of. Wait, mate? But the last item on the list forced the level headed life-form to look at the mentioned body part, "tender or swollen breasts, in your case, both . . . ."

"You looked it up," the voice was laced with touch, "you looked it up and actually remembered . . . ."

There was an awkward pause. "If I am to be present during your stages of pregnancy, then it would not do to stay misinformed. I must confess it took me a while to sort through your memories but it turns out you're quite well informed about your own biology. Those books seem really interesting —"

"I . . . it's just that . . . ." Finally, speechless; she took the chance to dip into the water. "I cannot believe . . . no one had ever done such a thing for me . . . ."

"I would have liked for you not to believe I'm like anyone when it comes to you . . . ." The pain was obvious, too obvious.

"I don't mean it in such fashion," the soft blue eyes were honest, "it's more the fact that you've kept tabs, went through such boring school memories, and just for me . . . ."

"Your mood swings are unpredictable, but not so frequent, while never suffering from constipation or heartburn, your headaches developed into paranoia, and your bathroom trips escalated," the warrior reinforced the facts that Hannah had mentioned, "but the most worrying, is the fact that you're still losing weight . . . ."

"Samara," Hannah began, while shifting position and sitting on the justicar's lap as they faced each other, "I love you."

It was sealed with a kiss. "But, these are swollen . . . ." A cobalt hand took gently a caramel breast.

The objection was quickly lost. Samara would never see a tub the same way ever . . . .


	6. 5: Savior of your Nightmares

_Savior of your Nightmares_

"Hey there, sleepy head," it was a lovely voice, one that Samara hadn't heard in a long time, "you hungry, love?"

The nickname use was unreal, as well as the mention of food. Was she dreaming? It certainly felt so. So the warrior concluded to open her eyes, and enjoy the dream while it lasted. The sight which greeted her left her speechless, as well as baffled and, in a small measure, both happy and sad. There she was, in a splendor of shining glory, radiant. Her mane was lustrous, as it had once been, and her eyes were pools of crystalline water, pure and lucid blue, and her skin . . . oh her skin had its lovely caramel tone back, and the justicar swore that it would feel soft and probably taste of cinnamon . . . .

Cinnamon was a delicacy that asaris loved and, once they found that the humans had it, would be the source of blossoming trades with humans for it. The smile the young female had was breathtaking. It left the stellar entity meant to give light and heat in shame, and brought ease to the cerulean life form. If Hannah could smile in such way, then certainly there was nothing wrong, right?

"What happened?" She had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation.

"I made breakfast," the blonde looked at the tray she held with such a lovely expression, that Samara knew she would kiss the once-frail human, "is it so strange?"

"It's perfect," the soldier beamed, and that was her undoing.

Taking care of leaving the tray in a safe place, she then gave the now puzzled young woman a deep kiss, which elicited a moan, and soon, she confirmed her thoughts; Hannah tasted of cinnamon. Minutes later, they were a tangled mess of cobalt and caramel limbs, each extremely flexible and moving comfortably against each other. Samara didn't know when, but she was once again melding; perhaps now she'll be able to find out how it was that they met the first time. The memory was blocked _tight_ and it was clear she didn't think about it.

This time though, the most predominant memories were about her childhood. Those prized moments meant to be spent with parents she spent surrounded by models of machines and an odd relative her age who was left with them because his parents were also all around. All of them scientists, it was as if their kids had to be smart enough to care for themselves. The boy did enjoy taking the models down and then reassembling them in way he wanted, but she didn't like the machines, and while he was praised for his structure, she was frowned upon and with questions regarding the validity of her as their daughter or if she was in one piece or if part of her was missing.

It was no wonder then, that her teenage was lived in anger and resentment, blaming her parents and Alliance alike for her misfortune, a wish to harm those two individuals because of it, juse to get lost and with so much pain, it became almost unbearable. Althogh those memories were blocked, Samara could feel her partner's thoughts about the whole incident: it concluded in their meeting, and their current dealings; Hannah was willing to undergo such torments just for the gratification and certainty of their meeting.

"Hannah . . . ." There was something the natural seductress wished to say, but had no words to express her feelings . . . .

Just then, something she had never felt before, came. She saw the mind of the creature before her breaking, a fracture that could never be undone, and a deep-set instinct that forced Samara's hand. Using only her hands and nails, she broke the caramel skin to reveal blood and muscle and bone and sinew and organs, all down the length of both arms, and from chest to pelvis, revealing the human beneath. Something, the justicar in her, panicked, and tried to regain control of the limbs, which felt reluctant in doing her bidding. Instead of snapping the neck in one fluid movement as to not allow the torment to begin, they began snapping rib by rib, and she was enjoying the sound.

The pathetic creature with her moaned and pleaded, but her words remained incoherent due to her broken mind, were anything but music to her auditive organ. She felt a cruel, sadistic and gleeful laughter escaped her, as she finally exposed the heart of the mere human she had been laying with mere seconds ago. It all seemed to fit in some twisted way, in some twisted logic, and she rejoiced in holding the beating heart in her hand. The way it pulsed and struggled to keep the stupid creature it served alive were meaningless.

With a final feeling of release, Samara sighed in relief as she softly and slowly crushed the vital organ in her hand, feeling the life leaving the prone blonde, and taking her time to take those golden locks within her other hand, and watching as the last breath and shine of life leave both, lungs and eyes, respectively. She even managed to feel the lungs exhale, much to her exhilaration, and she finally rleased the heart in her hand, a pulpy, bloody mess left on the sheets. The body before her convulsed, and only sadness was left; even the justicar in her reinforced the feeling of loss, not over the human, but on the killing act that took place. The asari felt a need to recapture the feeling, the excitement . . . the moment . . . .

Samara was frightened, and felt that such was the way her daughter felt.

* * *

"Hey there, sleepy head," it was the same lovely voice, one that Samara had felt she wouldn't hear ever again, and she felt dread at hearing it . . . "you hungry, love?"

The nickname use was unreal, as well as the mention of food, as well as the entire sentence. Was she still dreaming? It certainly didn't felt so. Samara concluded that opening her eyes was the only choice, and dreaded the realization that her dream was but a premonition of what was to come. Would she be able to change it? The warrior would certainly try. The sight which greeted her left her speechless, again, as well as baffled and, in a small measure, both happy and sad. Then terror swept over.

There she was, in a splendor of shining glory, radiant. Her mane was lustrous, as it had once been, as it had been in the dream, and her eyes were pools of crystalline water, pure and lucid blue, and her skin . . . oh her skin had its lovely caramel tone back, and the justicar swore that it would feel soft and probably taste of cinnamon . . . . Maybe her nightmare was repeating itself . . . . The smile the young female had was stunning. It left the stellar entity meant to give both, light and heat, in shame, and brought sheer, agonizing terror to the older life form. This wasn't the nightmare, because even that one left the one in the dream, far behind. Nothing she could conjure could look so awe-inspiring, not even the dream could compare to the real thing.

"What happened?" She desperately wanted to be dreaming, else the prospect would be bleak. "Are you okay? Hannah —"

"I made breakfast," the blonde looked at the tray she held with such a lovely expression, that Samara knew she would kiss the once-frail human, "I am okay, or I wouldn't have cooked, right?"

"But, Hannah, when did you wake up?" Somehow, she still felt as if things would easily lead back to what her nightmare showed her. "Why are we in bed?"

"Actually, I was hoping you would tell me," the once weak human looked at the food, and placed it aside, then curled tenderly next to her companion, "I woke up here, but I don't remember much, just a feeling of being moved . . . I assumed you did it . . . ."

The warrior placed a hand on her brow, focusing, then she remembered as she carried them both after the sun had risen to its zenith, back to the bed, to get some proper sleep . . . it was curious how useless it felt then to prepare something to eat, since she could tell that neither of them had been hungry.

"Yeah, so it seems," the perplexed cerulean face got a giggle from the human, and it was such a surprising sound, that Samara immediately forgot everything. "You're laughing!"

"Of course I am, silly," it was like dealing with a child; it was then that the dream came back, and the warrior realized that her companion had not had the best childhood; even if it had been a dream, there was a certainty that it was true. "Why are you making that face? Is something wrong?"

"There are plenty of things wrong," she almost said beloved, but she managed to restrain herself and took hold of a hand, "for once, we're not eating a meal you prepared, for another, you're acting stranger than usual."

"Oh, sorry," the tone was genuinely apologetic, "I didn't realize . . . ."

"That you were walking and cooking without troubles?" Electric blue pierced sky-blue in a soft stare. "Honestly, it scares me. I just hope your paranoia is gone."

"Well, I do feel better," Hannah acted all prim and proper, almost as if not wanting to remember their previous days in which she was anything but, "I made some flapjacks; one of the first meals I learned to cook."

The corporal passed the justicar the tray. The asari took one whiff and froze. It had cinnamon. Once again, the nightmare became too vivid to ignore, and she felt as if the usual case of morning sickness was affecting her.

"It has cinnamon," the words sounded shy, and also, perhaps, a little hurt. "I thought your kin was keen on the spice . . . ."

"The asaris love cinnamon," Samara had to speak softly as to gather her thoughts and ease her emotions; she wasn't afraid, just . . . unsettled. Gathering a bite, she ate it, and despite her best tries, she loved and hated the flavor. "I'm sorry Hannah, it's just . . . ."

"It's okay," yet, there were sniffles easily heard, "it's just one of those mood swings, I should just —"

A tender hand intercepted the frantic one, and took it in a loving embrace. The soothing effect was immediate; the human stopped moving, perhaps even thinking, just staring at the caring cerulean hand, then at the female who had grasped it, and just held back. The remaining free blue hand took solace on the caramel cheek, and the human sighed, in peace.

"I had a nightmare, sunshine," the justicar couldn't prevent that nickname from flowing, and the human seemed to stop breathing, "really bad one . . . ."

"You can tell me about it," Hannah sounded earnest and worried, making the older life form smile, "you can tell me anything . . . ."

It didn't take a lot of coaxing, and finally, with the pancake breakfast forgotten, did they consider the facts. Both had come to the same conclusion, but neither had a wish to speak about it, doing so would make it a fact. Despite the actual fact that there was no way Samara had a genetic disorder, since asaris were either born with, or without it, the strength of the feeling was enough to not even allow her to enjoy one of the delicacies that were hard to grow for lack of needed soil, which delight the extraterrestrial life form.

"You are not an Ardat-Yakshi," the corporal began slowly, as if testing the treading path and the word in her mouth, "yet the dream was clearly of you being one . . ."

Samara exhaled a rather heavy sigh. She took the stray tray and made her way to the entrance of their recent abode. Hannah followed closely behind. They sat on a hovering platform that rocked slowly, and there, finally, could the asari enjoy of the special spice that made everything sweeter. In the end, she hummed in pleasure, especially at the feeling of the smaller female pressed against her.

"If such is how she —" The warrior wasn't allowed to finish either thought or sentence.

"Don't think about it, about her," those clear-blue eyes looked deeply into the electric ones, and the blue cheeks turned soft violet, "just focus on me, on us . . . ."

Samara closed her eyes for a brief, painful moment, and with a heavy sigh, she nodded.

"Love, just for this day, let us forget about the world," no asari voice could even hope to compete with Hannah's; even when the galaxy had yet to discover humans, their full potential wouldn't be uncovered until later, as they were clearly at par with asari in seduction, "you need some time to gather your thoughts and get ready . . . ."

"When you make such offerings," she was leaning close, whispering near the hearing organ, "I lose focus . . . maybe we shouldn't be together . . . ."

"Offering?" Clearly, the humans were slightly deft on some approaches. "Ah, and the tough justicar's skin is shed to reveal the sexy asari within . . . ."

"Your advances are clear —" A laugh interrupted her, and she was puzzled.

"This is priceless," the twinkle in those soft-blue eyes made the warrior question her own reasoning, "we can . . . _meld_ anytime you feel like it; it shouldn't affect my pregnancy, as long as I don't try melding . . . ."

Samara could only shake her head at the antics. Now she was the one who had been making subtle approaches to the subject, not the human. The asari didn't care about it anymore; she just made use of the intentions, and decided to take up on the offer. She made sure not to trigger any melding with her mate, for fear of actually harming the child.

Hannah, for her part, didn't care for the means, just the ends; the owner of her heart wasn't thinking about the nightmare, or anything else for that fact. Sometimes, life forms were simple to understand, mainly because they all seem to have the same basic needs.


	7. 6: Border of Insanity

Border of Insanity

The soldier's body was aching. It just wasn't the back, groin, thigh, and abdomen, the pain extended to the calf and chest. Her tender breasts were still swelling, and the skin around the nipples was darkening, and the human claimed her ribs were hurting. What the asari found most endearing, were the patches of skin on the face, but they weren't darkening, they were lighten.

Then, there was the joint inflammation and the constant itches that, coupled with the numb and tingling hands left the young woman in fits. What wasn't normal, were the spontaneous bouts of dizziness, and the alone talks that she had with herself; the first time the cerulean creature witnessed the event, she became afraid that her friend had finally managed to lose her sanity.

* * *

**FlashBack**

_"No, I need some water, not sun or air . . . ." She was pacing around one of the rooms; they had moved again, this time, Samara had left to do her search, and had come back to take the pregnant woman somewhere else. "But, the fresh air will do me good, but I need fresh water, not air . . ."_

_"Hannah, are you okay?" This only got a scowl from the female._

_"Why is she asking me if I'm okay?" The usual clear blue eyes appeared to have a thin, barely noticeable layer. "Oh, it's probably 'cause I'm talking to myself . . . . Wait, since when do I think out loud . . ? Is thinking out loud the same as talking to myself . . ?"_

**FlashForward**

* * *

It had been the first time the asari had been truly afraid, and felt the urge to get the human back with her own kind, never mind the dangers of first contact. Besides that the problem was, her own kind had been the one to make a mess out of her, not that Samara had helped . . . . At least the dizziness wasn't nausea, but it was still worrisome.

"Samara, could you help me rub this on myself?" It was a sensible request that shouldn't be made, or at least use different words to phrase. "What is the question that you should ask Samara? Oh, shoot! Samara, could you rub my joints and hands, please?"

"I have the ointment," the cerulean face rounded the corner just to be greeted with the sight of the human trying to scratch herself; she was twisted upon herself, tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth as she tried to scratch her back. The justicar sighed; it was like dealing with a kid sometimes. "What are other things you can ask Samara to do for you?"

"Huh?" It actually helped talking to her as if it was herself with whom she spoke. "Oh! Samara, could you scratch my back, please? My hands have gone numb again . . . ."

"What a surprise, they are numb," the soldier had a wounded look on her face that changed to pleasure as soon as her lower back was being scratched. "So, did you plan to get some butter from the fridge to use on your joints?"

"Wow, even in my madness you know me well . . . ." The eyelids began to flutter, and the blue creature smiled tenderly. "Samara . . . ."

"I'll give you a foot rub as soon as I'm done covering you in ointment," she leaned down and gave the young woman a soft peck on the lips, "now, you be good and let Samara work."

The caramel face smiled in pleasure. It felt good to have someone who understood her so well, especially someone like the warrior. They began by the neck, rubbing it gently, easing the vertebrae burden, then the shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees and ankles. If only the female human wouldn't contort in such ways, maybe the cartilage wouldn't swell so badly. At least the swelling was the normal amount, and there was no extreme reddening.

Also, the corporal was regaining weight (_finally_?) at a normal pace, and was right then quite fit, enough that she was now the one preparing their morning meals. There was a slight problem to it, and it was that her sense of taste was being modified, such as her cravings dictating ketchup with her _something-akin-to _strawberry flapjacks. Quite a unique combination, in the asari's logic; her suspicion was confirmed that even by human standards it was weird by her companion's monologue.

"I prepared you a smoothie," the creature at her mercy made a humming noise, enjoying the ministrations, "no ketchup."

"Strawberry and mango?" It had been the latest combination. At least it wasn't weird.

"With some pineapple," the justicar confirmed, now massaging the ribs of the woman beneath her, eliciting a moan, "but I think I'll have mine now . . . ."

"Oh, which flavor?" Those blue eyes had a gone look in them. "Can I have some?"

Samara smirked, and approached to whisper, "its caramel, and it would be hard for you to get some . . . ." She was already making purée out of the young woman.

After the first time, the older life form took to just reading her companion's recent memories, mostly in order to enhance the pleasure, and soon, through this method, figured out a use to those silly things in their heads used for hearing. Ears. They had always seemed like a useless mutation, but then again, the skin surrounding it was so sensitive, that it was fun to play with. Like at that precise instant. Already being near the odd development, she took a careful bite of the lobe, and she felt her partner's mind exploding with gratification. Being biotic definitely had its uses. Asari weren't promiscuous creatures, but they were certainly created for pleasure . . . .

It took the bite for Hannah to understand what her lover meant. Already five months pregnant and her belly _was_ slightly big. It would seem though, that the justicar found her appealing during the pregnancy, but she wasn't one to complain. Her own hormones were in chaos.

* * *

"Samara, I feel like I betrayed you," yes, the blonde still had spells of sanity, though they were strange and rather infrequent, "all the training you gave me, I passed the knowledge on, although the program don't include swordplay as part of the requisite courses, it is offered."

"Have they seen the omni-tool?"

"Well, considering our technicians would take it from me and demand answers," she activated the holographic device, "and I refuse to part with it, then no. Human Special Forces will have to deal without it; if they won't take the help, I won't force it."

"A military special force that you help set up?" She was impressed, but sad that the creature had ended up being — what was that expression again? — _burned_ by her own people for the knowledge she had to offer. "Well, even if you should be capable of doing better and help further, I can see your kin isn't that kind to females, to be foolish enough to disregard all the help they could get . . . . You should have used your omni-tool to show them why you're a good candidate —"

"And increase the rumors about my _close encounter of the third kind_?" An unseemingly and indelicate snort later, the petite creature snuggled closer; truth was, she had, but although others thought they had seen a flash, it was in fact the blade of the tool in a self-defense motion she had perfected. It had been a reaction, and so fun was made of her whole abduction, even though it had been horrible until she had found the warrior, and then they had to go ahead and make remarks about probes and what-not, then towards her preferring aliens' over humans — they hadn't been wrong, she had fallen for Samara long before realizing, but then taking it personal, things had scaled out of hand. For all her training, she couldn't handle five grown men, and afterwards, with all her bruises and still not talking, they bound her up and set watch. So no, Hannah would be excused for wanting to keep quiet about anything else, even if the aliens bit them in their rears, it would be well deserved. "They'll understand in due time. What's the point of waiting for the surprise when it's spoiled?"

"So being prepared doesn't factor into it?" She began caressing the golden locks, trying to ease her mate and regulate her breathing; she knew what had happened, yet walked right into it.

"I've already helped them," Hannah hid her face, "but being there led to this — mess! If they won't listen, I don't have to expose myself; I shouldn't have been exposed in such a manner in the first place! Although it hadn't been Alliance approved, hence why they got away. I don't need to needlessly make myself vulnerable, it feels like being the chicken with a red spot, and having the others peck at it.

"I don't need to — I _don't_!"

"You don't." She held the trembling girl closer. "You certainly don't."

So much for an enlightened mood, it was ruined, and there was nothing she could do to make it better. Sometimes, when basic needed weren't involved, complexities shine through that make for a possibly complex situation. Most of the times though, simply holding the one ailing and suffering, made the whole difference. So in a sense, every creature held the similar need for comfort, it just takes a while to learn the subtleties to the amount and the right kind to offer. Even if Samara hadn't been in touch with others for a long time, she still had three daughters and had once had a partner; she knew enough. It didn't take the pain, didn't lessen it, but there was comfort in knowing someone else was there, and she was. She wouldn't be later on, but she would try her best to show her support.


	8. 7: Naming

Naming

Dancing, wasn't something usually done when so into a pregnancy. Yet that was how the cobalt figure found the blonde female, dancing to the same human song she had been dancing to after she had gotten her omni-tool. Apparently the technology had been advanced enough that through the right channels, she found a niche of human music that the asari had left on the planet a long time ago. How the girl had managed it, she didn't ask, but she had stared as she had back then.

_So let's . . . raise the bar,  
and our cups . . . to the stars!_

Samara couldn't explain herself. Maybe it was the walk, the gait, the way those hips moved . . . . Then again, maybe it was the soft pale mask on her face, making the contrast . . . _delectable_ . . . or perhaps it was the grace and balance of _movement_ with the extra weight. Maybe it was how she acted as though she was sane, and speaking aloud with herself. It may even be all the above but Samara didn't care about the reason, she merely wished to understand her own fascination with the pregnant human.

Would there be other asaris to fall prey? Was it only between them? Maybe it was the same thing that made her kin so desired by others, mainly aliens, that made her desire the petite blonde, but there was no real way of figuring out. They were in a secluded planet, her prey's track gone temporarily cold. Samara knew she was being irrational by trying to prevent the woman from getting in contact with others.

"Love, are you alright?" When did Hannah realized she was there? "I could go make us dinner."

It was one of her few and unique moments of lucid consciousness, and the justicar didn't want to miss it.

"Sorry, sunshine," she answered as she went towards the still-dancing woman, the nickname feeling strange, "I was deep in thought. How about we dance to this song before preparing dinner together?"

Hannah grinned at the idea and took the extended cerulean hand and pulled her close. They danced together to the end of the song, each inhaling the other, getting lost in the soft sway.

"Are your joints okay?"

"I once told you why dancing," those sky-blue eyes looked at peace, "for all our . . . _activities_, dancing is the one cure."

"Dinner is served?" She asked, just to receive a chuckle for an answer.

"No, dancing is just beginning." The introduction of the song began again, but this one was slower, and longer, than the first one, "there are to versions of this song, the radio edit, and the unedited version, which has two more minutes or so of music."

"I can guess which you like best."

And Hannah danced to her heart's content and physical need. Soon, they were moving as one, in synchronization at a different level from the melding, and it was _unique_. Physical union has never extended to anything beyond primal and it was the joining of souls that made it all real but _this_, this was what physical union was meant to be. Not an erratic move to satisfy a need but the synchronization and alignment of one's entire being. Hearts beating as one, two bodies moving as one and, in such sense, _becoming one_. She couldn't tell where she ended and the human began, who was breathing because, it felt, as if when Hannah took a breath, so did she, and the other way around too. It felt like drowning in all the physical aspects of the movement and unable to distinguish between individuals. Samara couldn't help it, the melding process began on its own and soon, to the beat of the song, they truly became one.

_We're up all night to get lucky, __We're up all night to get lucky  
__We're up all night to get lucky; __We're up all night to get lucky  
__We're up all night to get lucky  
__We're up all night to get lucky; __We're up all night to get lucky  
__We're up all night to get lucky, __We're up all night to get lucky._

* * *

"Dinner." Hannah sounded serious, even after the intense experience and —

"Have you ever experienced something like this before?" She almost demanded, not knowing what she was feeling and sorely missing her meditation time.

"No, and I wanted to stay and savor the remaining ebbs of it," now she sounded like Samara, "but I can tell all the activity has hungered me and the child."

That was another thing. She had become more homely, more adorable, tenderer even . . . . The asari relented and together, they went to the kitchen. The connection lasted throughout the preparation, them chopping and preparing the stew together, not looking at the thing the other did but knowing what they were each doing. Soon, they were sitting at the table, with the human craving and in pain; the justicar smiled as she fed the woman and found excuses to kiss her. They ate in relative silence, words and sounds made to express frustration, pain and discomfort, although there were more moans of pleasure and child-like giggles. Afterwards, they resumed their nightly rituals of ointment rubbing and — the cerulean creature had started to use her biotic ability to check on the growing child. They usually did it every morning and before going to bed; sometimes, when they were resting in bed.

"So, why again, is it that you do not wish to know its gender?"

"I'm conflicted, afraid that I might not be able to care for it," she rubbed her belly in a protective manner, her face contorted with worry, "not sure how to feel."

Could she care for her child if it was a boy? And if it was a girl?

"Well, it's growing well and healthy," she smiled tenderly, "I'm glad that I can tell as much."

"What should I name it?" The asari looked at the human with a questioning look. "Two names, one for a boy, another for a girl."

"Why?" Did the human know and didn't wish to show it?

"Just in case, silly!" There, the tinkling laughter that made the mask shine. "I want a name in case it's a boy or a girl."

"John and Jane?" They were the most basic names, still popular after being abused so, the only names the asari could come up after searching the memories; how delightful it was to realize how much she knew. Sarcasm seemed to come a bit more naturally apparently; side-effects of their recent meld?

"I assume you don't know others," the blue seductress shrugged; she _couldn't_ come up with others, there was a difference, "I wanted a name with at least your initial . . ."

"Like Sane?" The mild glare was met with a tilt of the head. "I like the sound of it, but it feels like jinxing the girl, probably making her prone to insanity."

"Ha, _ha_," the jest was well met, "more along the lines of . . . what do you think of Shane?"

"Oh, so both our initials," she looked impress, and there was a warm feeling tickling by her heart; she shuddered a bit, "the sound is . . . pleasant. Shane, hmmmm, sounds like honey with a bit of lemon. So, Shohn?"

"Shawn, yes," there was a brief moment of disconnection, and then the human spelled it out.

"Well, it has an s and an h," Samara gave the young woman a smile, "now; you'll have to wait to use either."

The soldier blushed sweetly and for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the look on those electric eyes that made her body react, but she visibly swallowed. It was clear where her head was, and the warrior didn't disappoint; they were getting ready for bed after all, and the caresses often turned into well practiced activities. Samara wanted to try the synchronization, but she doubted the frail, caramel body was up for it. Oh well, at least there was no need to chase after the woman; that had been interesting, Hannah evading her and putting her hidden training into use just to frustrate her. And she had been the one to teach her; sure, they had used a varren back then, dangerous one too, but it had paid off.


	9. 8: Future Plans

Future Plans

The young woman moved about without a care in the galaxy. She was treading barefoot across a shallow flowing water source, enjoying the texture of the solid pebbles and small round rocks that lay on the base. The sight made the beating organ on the other life form actually skip a beat. Good thing that she had a strong heart as well.

"Samara, come join me!" It was a civil request, but the warrior was afraid of the implications. "Come on, it's warm and cool, quite puzzling."

That was intriguing. Usually a bad omen, but then again, the blonde's sense of touch was a tad bit wrong; wacky was a better word, perhaps? Taking care to not approach further than the shore, she was cautions not to get caught by a splash unaware. Once there, she felt the water out, and found it quite cool. All was well, except for the warm presence over her; Hannah was certainly stealthy when she wanted.

"Is that actually a good idea?" The young life form knew what tended to happen when she was being so near the extraterrestrial being. "I thought you had learned by now —"

She began rising slowly to full height, just for her breath to be taken away. Standing right before her, as if the sun were behind her, stood the young human, the markings on her face giving her a hint of mystery, a lustrous quality to her golden mane . . . Samara was paralyzed, only capable of taking a step forward, dipping her cobalt right foot in, intrigued by the now freezing source. The soldier seemed to exhale for them both as she moved even closer, placing her soft hand on her companion's cheek.

"The fact that I'm seven months along shouldn't mean much," once she had begun her third and final trimester, her insanity had lessened; she didn't speak aloud or to herself anymore, enjoying her time meditating along the justicar, who had sorely missed her routine. "I didn't make the suggestion lightly . . . ."

Now Samara was the one with her nerves exposed to a thrilling flare firing inside her. She felt that the markings on the face had remained due to the asari side of the pregnancy, but at moments like those, she considered that, perhaps, they were there to taunt her. Since they were out in the open, as to not attract attention, she would have to keep the loud creature's mouth busy. Not that she was any more silent, but then again, kissing would solve both problems.

* * *

"I ought to have more control," she reprimanded herself; great, now she was the one speaking out loud. Perhaps insanity was actually contagious. "Maybe I should join her doing katas . . . ."

No, it would only end the same way. She had always been a patient creature, as she had to be while chasing her elusive charge. They had a wall which separated them, but the barrier held them well apart. The justicar's hearing was tested, and she was glad to hear the natural breathing pattern. They had already chosen not only the names, but the places where the child would live.

If born a boy, he had a home with a cousin from her mother's side; there was a complex family problem that had led to a rupture between them. A reason as to why the cousin, who had been willing to take the boy, was mainly due to the bonding they had; both had been pusher towards ends without even a choice, whigh led to problems with their parents. They considered the other a sibling. While she had met Samara, and that prompted her to show her parents up, he had decided to drop everything and just move back to earth. He wanted, or rather, needed some stability, and felt that a colony wouldn't serve his purpose. Another thing they had in common was that they had taken a different last name; it wasn't the same though, which would be good for the boy. Hannah could have an aunt-nephew relation with the boy.

If born a girl, she would be taken to a small, farming colony, Mindoir, and left with a family of shepherds; they had been the only ones willing to take on the girl since they wanted a daughter but only had sons, and the woman wasn't able to conceive anymore. It was funny that their last name was Shepard, but understandable as well. They asked Hannah to be the girl's god-mother, and while the name Shawn had been accepted by the boy's father, the family had been too grateful, enough to allow Shane to keep hers. It was commonly a boys' name it would seem, but they felt it would make the boys treat her as one of their own; they themselves had said it would be . . . cool, to have a sister named Shane.

Although it had taken a lot of coaxing to arrange all of that, since it was obvious to Hannah that they would have to disappoint one of the parties, Samara felt that it was a risk they had to take. While the brother-cousin hadn't found a mate, he was eager to have a child to teach. Perhaps it was overcompensation, but the man was sure to spoil the kid as if he were his own; another reason why he would only take on a boy, and not a girl. Of course, the justicar had her own reasons for pushing towards such results, and after a while, the human stopped pestering about it. It had been shortly after she began the katas and meditations. The cobalt creature focused back on her mate, and found her breathing hard. She went to the next room, found the young woman tired, and simply picked her up.

"You're overdoing it."

"I am _so_ not overdoing it," the blonde complained, "I'm just short of breath."

"And with another bathroom trip," the sky-colored eyes looked down, blushing in shame, "it is normal, it should be this frequently."

"What isn't frequent is a woman getting this big!" There was the groan and the cobalt creature expected the mild complains to repeat themselves; they didn't come, just a random comment that the older life form hadn't heard, "I should have been bigger when it was the fifth month, as well as the seventh. The spud just had to sprout . . . ."

"I thought you had stopped speaking with yourself . . . ." It was clear that the creature in her arms knew what was going on; the sigh heaved was sign enough.

"Sometimes, I have lapses; usually while meditating," the eyes turned to the carrying female, "usually, when you're not around." It would seem that the asari wasn't the only one suffering from some kind of sexual arousal while the other was around . . . interesting bit of information.

"Has it been speaking to you?" There was no way of being subtle about the subject; the soft-blue eyes widen, the answer was yes.

"You only told me about the melding," the caramel creature realized, "never about the pregnancy; not even your memories included those."

"There are some subtleties to the pregnancy that are unique to our race," the seriousness in those electric eyes was overwhelming.

"It cannot be explained," and she was proving the reasons why the warrior loved spending time with her, she was bright, "it can only be experienced."

"The child won't remember the . . . conversations." There were also memories shared, mostly mother to daughter, which was the reason why the kid never remembered. "Considering our lifespan, there is plenty to learn."

"It's designed to just catch a glimpse, right?" The young woman was extremely bright, "as to the amount of will, the likelihood of character, a taste of their . . . steel . . . ."

Definitely an asset to her race; not even the asari had been capable of describing it so cleanly, never truly finding the proper words. They continued the small talk in the bedroom, while the foot rub was being given. It was mostly about the girl, mainly due to the fact that there were no male asaris, but by then the human most likely knew the truth. She was having twins. The girl would likely end up looking a bit like Samara, but that mostly depended on the mapping done. Too bad she wouldn't be able to see the child's growth.

"I can send you vids," really, they should stop the mind reading.

"I admit I would like that," they stared at each other, "I'm not sure that's right."

"You are part of her, it's logical for you to be involved, if only to a certain degree," it was a shy question, she looked too coy . . . "I understand the reasons as to why not; it doesn't mean that we should follow it."

"I would love the vids," she was smiling tenderly and caring, having learned to truly love the human next to her, "but we both have to follow our own paths."

"Once you catch her," this seemed to be a question the blonde appeared to be dying to ask, "what will you do?"

"I'll find you," she couldn't help keeping the nonchalance from her voice, "then kidnap you."

They began to tease each other with the word choice and such things. Samara was partly glad to have found Hannah when she had. It was always hard to outlive a mate, which was one of the reasons why she had chosen from her own kin. Krogans were too raw and wild for her taste. Most species were too short lived, but right then, she didn't have that longer even, a century at most; she was already living in it. She meant what she had said. Once she felt truly at peace, she would look for the young woman and whisk her away.

"And what about my post," the woman laughed; she was being mercilessly tickled by well-trained blue fingers, "what if I'm not willing to go with you?"

"If you were, it wouldn't be kidnaping," the cobalt seductress turned serious, the tickling subsiding, "you would come with me, wouldn't you?"

The petite woman's breath was lost; she could feel the intensity behind those electric eyes. Knowing that the moment was a decisive one in their lives, she supported her weight and the babies' on her arm and elbow, as to be closer to the owner of her heart. Going beyond the encompassing eye contact, she went for the private and intimate whispering towards the hearing organ. Samara was thankful that her world hadn't gone mute, although it felt as if the universe itself were holding its breath.

"We would only be apart as long as our duties take us different paths." The voice was soft and utterly serious. The caramel female then turned so that they were facing each other. "You own my heart Samara; it was yours since I willingly turned to your guidance."

"That was . . . ." Trying to grasp the magnitude of the whole situation, she realized that, perhaps, that had been both their undoing. "I love you . . . ."

This time, it was Samara's turn to speak the words, her turn to seal them with a kiss. Too bad the human was too heavy to properly enjoy the other ministrations . . . .

_When the time has come for us to leave, do we really part?  
__Doesn't part of me stays with you, as part of you stays with me?_


	10. Epilogue: Parting

Epilogue: Parting

Performing an asari pregnancy on a human had been one of the most . . . intriguing experiences for Samara. She could tell that the petite female was of same mind on that regard. She held the caramel hands between each of hers, and gave the young woman soft kisses around the face. It seemed that no one else noticed the pregnancy mask unless they were told, but the oldest life form could still see it; she was kissing it at the moment.

"Would you like some time?" It was Sha'ira, an asari that the current father trusted deeply; it had been with her and her acolytes' help that they had managed to secure a smooth labor.

"We must talk," it was the only answer that could be given, and when those sky-blue eyes widen in horror, the speaker smiled her reassuring smile, "it must be done, sunshine . . . ."

"Worry not, Hannah," a good thing was, that those two had become close friends; she then approached the exhausted human, "you feed your babies, I'll speak with their Father for just a second."

Nelyna then entered the room in her quiet and discreet fashion, speaking softly and in a reassuring manner to the blonde, taking her to another room where more asaris waited to help her out. They had food for both, mother and children, as well as a relaxing massage. They would probably squeeze Hannah for information regarding the babies and, over all, the relation they shared. She loathed leaving her caramel pudding in such capable hands, but she knew that things would have been too risky with anyone else. For that matter, she knew that her choice had been right on the spot.

"How did you manage it?" Of course, that would be the main subject; humans couldn't reproduce without donors. Even if the asaris were the only ones who knew about this life form, they had studied their medieval times and hadn't changed much, anatomically speaking. "The girl, she will look just like you when she's older."

"I can already see the line of suitors," she frowned and then growled; she wouldn't be there to prevent or guide the girl. After spending so much time with her recent companion, she knew humans were delicate on that subject, specifically, females. "Sha'ira, you are not helping me out, I have lost enough daughters, and it feels like losing another."

"You're involved deep," there was a frown of worry on her friend's brow, and she stopped, "Samara, the girl is one hundred percent human, yet her whole structure is of an asari."

"If implants are needed, Hannah will make sure —"

"Three years ago, there was an accident on Earth," no wonder why she had been so rudely interrupted, "eezo was involved, a year later it was confirmed that the exposure left around thirty percent of the children with foreign tumors, and they were keen on leaving them to die."

Sha'ira was ready to continue, but stopped when she noticed her companion gaze on her mate.

"And those who didn't die at birth, presented signs of biotic potential," so that was the key . . . no wonder why her partner was sensitive. "We believe iniciating contact might be inevitable at this point."

The human was walking over to her, running actually, no signs of exhaustion left in her. "The Citadel will keep watch?"

"Yes." There was nothing else to be discussed. Or so she thought.

"She looks like you, just like you," the child was once again crying and burying her head on her favorite spot, "is it right to leave her —"

"You gave your word, youngling," she raised the caramel chin, and looked deep into those sky-blue eyes, "it wouldn't do to break it."

"I'm afraid of keeping her," she was becoming frantic, "but I do not wish to part with our —"

A kiss, as always, made things better. The blonde moaned deeply, and they were both breathless after the exchange. Right then, they noticed that several of the acolytes had walked with grace and poise, their target clear as they followed the steps of the caramel being. Nelyna stepped forward, and took the petite human from her grasp, and guided her back to the room. Samara just watched longingly as the young woman was taken from her. Besides her, the cobalt female snorted mildly, quite unlike herself.

"That answers my other question," that made the electric eyes turn to meet those steely ones in a focused glare. "You certainly care for her Samara, and had you not joined —"

"The order gave me stability," and there was another flaw, "and if I hadn't joined it, I wouldn't have met her . . . ."

"Samara . . ." Sha'ira sighed along with the name, and then shook her head as the oldest life form began walking; the other walked behind. "The order doesn't prohibit having a partner, and she wants you to be happy —"

"I want her to be happy," what she needed was peace.

"And she'll clearly be happy at your side!" It was logical, but as always, there were flaws in it; she began seeing them after spending so much time with an irrational creature.

"She also needs a fulfilling life," she turned to give the cerulean female at her side a sad look, "that means more than being a mother."

"She is a maiden . . . ." Finally, Sha'ira was seeing things right. "Maiden and Matron stage tend to mix themselves . . . ."

"Puzzling creatures, I agree," there was nothing else to be said; she meant that about their own race as well.

Samara went towards her mate, as she began giving trouble to some asaris. With the oldest life form among them, she was kept docile. Hannah fed her children, and kept them for three more months. She would do so in the Citadel, where Sha'ira would keep an eye on her, since she wouldn't be allowed to go out of the Consort's personal Chambers. Afterwards, she would leave for Mindoir, and then Earth. Then, Hannah would go back to her vessel.

Samara would be off hunting by then, and with renewed vigor. To make their universe safer for her newest born, who had that same skin tone as her mother, but the texture was that of an asari; the colony wouldn't realize this, and it was likely that said skin would soften with time. All the justicar could hope was for a future meeting.

* * *

_This story was written for someone I just met: to **Rae D. Magdon**; may it bring you as much giddiness and joy as Hannah has in it_

_May you further inspire me_


End file.
